A Very Malfoy Christmas
by Koiame
Summary: Eight year old Draco enjoys Christmas at home. Childish mischief and heartwarming scenes characterize this feel-good holiday special. Warning: Fluff and eventual Gryffindors.
1. Part 1

**Christmas Special 2011**

**Part 1**

Another Christmas had come to Malfoy Manor. The halls and rooms were a splendor with sparkling decorations and enchanted features. Holly, ivy, pine, and poinsettia brought warmth to the cold stone floors and accouterments. In his lavish bedroom, the youngest Malfoy – only eight - was tended to by the flock of nannies bustling around him.

"Master Draco, your mother wants you to wear these dress robes for this afternoon's party." One young attendant pleaded with the pint-sized blonde as he struggled from her grasp.

With a pout, the boy stormed away to a corner and blew long strands of hair out of his face. Arms crossed, he defiantly kicked the foot of an armchair. It was past morning and he was still clad in pajamas and fuzzy slippers.

"Master Draco, I expect your father will not be pleased if he finds you absent from the dinning hall too long." An older nanny chose her words cleverly.

The attendants waited and watched as Draco visibly considered her words. After thorough consideration, he sulked, lifting his arms up to be redressed. With returned smiles, the nannies swarmed and adorned him with robes of the finest cloth and shoes of the best make. When they were done, he looked like a small prince. But in many respects, being the heir of the Malfoy family was even better.

When they were done, the blonde turned to a mirror and mimicked his father's typical preening routine. Hair drawn back and tied with a blue silk ribbon, he was the image of refinement. With a satisfied nod, Draco turned on his heel and marched out of the room with a smirk. Lined up at the bottom of his staircase were house elves and maids to be commanded.

"Where is my father?" The eight year old questioned regally.

Curtsying, the maid on the farthest end divulged the answer.

"In the dining room, Master Draco." She said.

He darted off down the lined path, his tiny robes billowing in his stride like quiet whispers. The great doors opened easily, revealing his father in conversation with a familiar merchant. Aware of his own status, Draco quietly walked with dignity to stand at his father's side.

"Bandleby, you of course know my son, Draco." Lucius said, aware of his progeny's arrival.

The other man's face brightened up, the wrinkles of his skin arching most prominently on his forehead. This man, Draco thought, was afraid of his father.

"Of course, of course! How could I forget the young master? The spitting image of you, Mister Malfoy." The merchant revealed a toothy grin.

Pleased, Lucius patted his son's head. "Draco, Mister Bandleby and I have business. Go find your mother." He said.

Hiding his disappointment, the young blonde nodded and wandered off to the kitchen. It was empty, save for the makings of a feast that covered every surface. Mischief sprung up from his childish whims. Dancing on his tiptoes, Draco reached up to grab a tray of sweet pies off the counter-top. His fingertips coached the tray towards him. '_Closer,_' Draco yearned as his mouth began to water. '_Just__a__little__more__…_'

A loud crack from outside the kitchen door startled Draco as he fell backward. Linen table cloth grasped in his hand, the tray and other goods tumbled all over the young wizard. Lobs of pudding streaked down his blonde head. A grimace and tears betrayed the loss of dignity the blue-eyed boy felt while he sat amongst the mess he had made. Any minute someone would be along to shame him for his blundering, Draco thought sickly. Beyond the stinging tears, the boy was surprised to see a rattled cage at his feet. Its occupant was a lone fluffy creature he had never seen.

"What are you?" Draco asked.

The animal merely wiggled its nose at him and stared. Instead, the creaking of the kitchen door answered him. With nimble haste, the blonde wizard scooped up the cage and tore around the backside of the prep station. In its shadow the boy hid.

"Oh dear! Master would not be pleased with Dobby." The house-elf moaned at seeing the mess. "Well, what Master doesn't know can't hurt Dobby."

With a couple snaps of his knobby fingers, Dobby cleaned up the culinary chaos. Draco's breathing was shallow as he listened intently for a chance to escape without detection. Glasses clanked against each other as the house-elf magicked them onto a floating tray and poured a spicy smelling liquid into each. The door swung open, and Dobby was gone again. With a breath of relief, the hiding little wizard looked down at the caged bucktoothed fellow.

"I think they mean to cook you for dinner." Draco said. "I can't image you'd taste very good." Compassion tugged at the boy's heart. It was a weakness, he thought. But all the same, Draco could not bear to see the creature come to harm.

On his feet, the eight year old crept slowly at first towards the back door. The glass pane in it viewed the outside garden. With a surge of boldness, Draco dashed for the doorknob and in turn hurried through the opened threshold. The cage rattled with every stride. In a few minutes, he had reached the tree line of the woods on the Malfoy estate. That was the safest place, Draco thought. He set the cage down and opened its latched door.

"C'mon…" Draco commanded, "Out you stupid thing."

But the white, floppy eared creature would not budge. The pint-sized wizard eyed the furry animal as he snuck his hand into the cage to coax it out. Searing pain caused Draco to cry out as sharp teeth dug into his palm. Instinctively, the boy drew back his hand and clutched it with the other. The tiny assailant hopped from its confines to stare at the howling blonde.

"What are _you_ looking at?" Draco cried.

The white mass of fur looked up at him almost apologetically. Draco scowled at the cute little patch of black on the creature's ear. It was hard to stay cross.

"Go on then." The blonde whimpered. "Go find someone else to bite."

After crouching frozen in place for a moment longer, the little animal hopped away. Finished with his quest, the young Malfoy collected himself and walked back to the house feeling worse for wear. Along the way, he angrily kicked a basketful of turnips next to the garden path. The pain was making his head go foggy. With his uninjured hand, Draco turned the doorknob and shuffled into the room. Once more, the smells of the kitchen filled his nostrils.

"Draco!" The boy heard his mother gasp. Narcissa Malfoy hurried over to him.

"Look at you! What have you been doing? Are you alright?" She paused. "Is that _pudding_ in your hair?" With a snivel, Draco lifted his bitten hand to show her, to which she clucked and cooed.

"There, there… it will be alright." She said. With a flick of her wand, the wound was healed.

"I'm sorry Mum." The boy's bottom lip trembled.

Narcissa smiled at him reassuringly. "No harm done." She said. "But we really should get you cleaned up."

Draco calmed down and took a deep breath. With a little more motherly magic, he was returned to a state of tidiness. Not a speck of the night's menu items remained. The next second, Narcissa hurried him into the Dining hall. Some guests had already taken their seats along the lengthy, joined tables and were engaged in conversations. Smiles turned on, the pair made their way to the head of the table to sit on either side of Lucius. The Malfoy family patriarch called on all his visitors to be seated. After the dull shuffling of chair legs had finished, the tall blonde wizard stood and rose his glass high.

"A toast," said Lucius, "to the prosperous year behind us and the glorious one before us. May we rise and never fall."

The party echoed their host's sentiments and drank up. Lucius reclaimed his seat and the feast appeared before the diners for review. Important witches and wizards of various ages chatted and enjoyed the decadent banquet. Wine and warming drafts flowed freely. Draco, though, was content to nibble at some roasted ham from the plate his mother made up for him.

"Narcissa," Lucius asked, "what happened to the rabbit pie?"

His wife paused for thought. Glancing at her son and then her husband, the sharp witch smiled.

"It must have already gone, darling." Narcissa sniffed and returned to her meal.

Disappointed, Lucius accepted her answer and reluctantly returned to his rabbit-less dinner. Draco peeped cautiously at his parents before averting his eyes. Something about their conversation made his stomach warble nervously. Were they talking about _that_ bothersome creature, the boy wondered, was _that_ a rabbit?

* * *

><p><strong>Koiame<strong>: I hope you are enjoying this Christmas special. Thank you all for reading my stories. There is more to come! Part 2 should be up within the next couple days. Please let me know what you think so far. And have a wonderful holiday!


	2. Part 2

**Christmas Special 2011**

**Part 2**

_Something about their conversation made his stomach warble nervously. Were they talking about that bothersome creature, the boy wondered, was that a rabbit?_

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><p>The next morning when the young wizard woke, he still pondered that question. With half his usual enthusiasm, Draco sped down the stairs into the living room where the Christmas tree towered surrounded by presents. Draped in her night robes, Narcissa Malfoy glided into the room with a plate of biscuits and a cup of soothing tea.<p>

"Have a snack, Draco. Your father will be down in a few minutes." She smiled, setting the items on a tea table.

On his knees, the young wizard scooted along the carpeted floor. Biscuit in hand, Draco plopped down on his backside and eyed his gifts wondrously. All the visitors and pageantry of the day before had gone. Now, the boy beamed gleefully, he could be himself – _just_ a kid.

"Draco dear," Narcissa captured her son's attention, "open this one for mummy now before your father comes down."

From her teal robes, she produced a simple package wrapped in brown paper and twine. Curious at his mother's request, Draco obliged and released the hidden object from its coverings. The worn feeling of a cloth-covered book provided gentle friction against his fingertips. In a faded white coloring, the wording on its face simply read, "The Tales of Beedle the Bard."

"Mum?" He asked, confused.

With an understated flick of her wand, Narcissa pulled up a chair and sat beside her only son.

"It was mine when I was your age. Your father would not approve – he thinks children's stories are nonsense - so let's not tell him." She fluttered with motherly mischief.

"What exactly is my family not going to tell me?" Lucius Malfoy emerged from the foyer.

Narcissa popped up and rushed to greet him merrily. "If you had been a second later, we would have started without you." She said, and ventured to peck his cheek with a kiss.

Well trained in his mother's ways, Draco took the opportunity he was given to hide the book underneath the skirt of the couch where it would be safe. Accepting his wife's explanation, Lucius walked with her over to a pair of plush armchairs and sat.

"Alright Draco, go ahead." The boy's father commanded.

The bright-eyed young wizard tore open the wrappings of package after package, pausing only briefly to consider each gift that he uncovered. A new toy broom and hoards of sweets were only for starters. Brilliant gifts of magical quality transformed the room into exotic scenes of faraway places and thrilling battles as the family watched bemusedly. A toy cauldron set allowed its user to brew beginner potions with the liquids contained as complimentary items in sample-sized vials. The day and weeks ahead would be full of such diversions and many more. But after the unwrapping was over, the family ate breakfast together before going their separate ways. It _was_ a very busy day, after all.

When his father was absent, Draco snuck the book from under the couch up to his room, ducking and dodging to avoid servants and nannies. The wide stone hollow of an enormous window made for a cozy reading space. Sunlight streamed through each pane of glass, bringing to life the faded pages of text in his hands. The front cover crackled with the brittleness of age as it opened. Scrawled in fresh ink was the neat pen of Narcissa Malfoy, written with care and grace.

_Darling Draco, _

_Like Babbity, may you never lose your cleverness, kindness, and bravery. But most importantly, always remember to follow your heart wherever it takes you._

_Love Always,_

_Mum_

The young wizard blushed at his mother's affections. A crisp, white bookmark peaked its head above the pages; fluttering magically as it drew his attention. Draco thumbed through the pages until he found the marked spot.

"Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling Stump." The boy read aloud.

Draco read and read until the story was through. Realization and excitement glint like stardust in his eyes. That _was_ a rabbit, he thought, but how did mum know?

"Draco, come say goodbye to mummy and daddy!" Narcissa called from the bottom of the stairs.

Sluggishly, the young boy complied. Once at the top of the landing, Draco peered over the railing to spy his parents in their best formal robes.

"Bye mum. Bye dad." He called down to them.

"Be on your best behavior! We'll see you tomorrow morning." Lucius said.

Narcissa pulled on her coat and then blew kisses to her son. Draco rested his chin on the rail and waved goodbye. In a second, they had gone. The eight year old wondered what the Minister's Christmas parties were like. Dancing, drinking, and the like… that's what he imagined. And there are sweets of course… even adults have to like cakes, the innocent wizard decided.

* * *

><p><strong>Koiame<strong>: Sorry for the delay. I have been sick and before that the holiday caught up with me. Anyways, there will be a third part. Please let me know what you think so far. Hope your holidays are going brilliantly and that you have a very Happy New Year!


	3. Part 3

Christmas Special 2011

Part 3

In the dungeons of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the clock is striking the hour. Eleven year old Draco tears away from his reminiscing of Christmases past; his mouth watering and stomach growling over thoughts of deserts and exotic foods. Quickly he gathers his belongings, eager to escape double potions class with the Gryffindors, and heads to lunch.

"Watch it, Weasley!" Malfoy yells, the read-head knocking him over in the hall.

To Draco's chagrin, the entire contents of his book bag spill onto the floor. Textbooks, vials, and polished things toss about in the chaos of shuffling feet. Conflicted, Ron stands there awkwardly, not knowing if he should help or apologize. Crabbe and Goyle, the mindless oafs, bumble about trying to collect their leader's belongings.

About to use every one of the numerous curses he had learned on the insufferable red-head, Draco stops only when he spies one of his books in the hands of his sworn rival.

"Potter." Malfoy glares and sticks his hand out commandingly.

After a second look at the cover, Harry gives him the book back. The blonde's face is red and flustered. A tense moment of eye-contact transpires between them.

"Crabbe… Goyle…" The blonde beckons his lackeys to follow as he storms off out of sight.

Baffled by the uncharacteristic retreat, Harry and Ron pause for consideration – staring in the direction to which their foes had fled.

"What was that about?" Ron asks.

Shaking his head, Harry replies. "No idea."

"Did I miss something?" Hermione says as she emerged from the potions classroom, still fumbling with her bag.

Ron shrugs. "No clue, but I'm starving."

After a look of exasperation from Hermione, they all head off toward the dining hall. Harry, however, stops almost immediately in his tracks when something white catches his eye. The curious Gryffindor picks up the strip of white cloth from the floor and holds it between his fingers.

'_Is it… a bookmark?_' The green-eyed wizard considers.

"Harry, alright there mate?" Ron calls back to him; noticing him lag behind.

"Y-yeah." He replies, clutching the object in his fist. "I just remembered something."

"Is it about, you know…" Hermione whispers. "Flammel?"

"No, it's nothing like that." Harry reassures her. "There's just something I have to do."

The raven-haired wizard runs off ahead, leaving Hermione and Ron puzzled. Once in the grand entrance way, Harry pauses, opening his hand to examine the delicate bookmark once more. 'It has to be from Malfoy's book,' he ponders, 'but what to do with it?' The wizard could just imagine the blonde's reaction if he tried to return it to him in person. Those thoughts make him groan aloud at the certain grief he would suffer from one of the Slytherin's verbal assaults. But despite that cost, Harry can not deny his intuition which tells him that there must be something important about that scrap of fabric to Draco. Malfoy, after all, has never acted so uncharacteristically before about anything.

"Guess there's no other way." Harry sighs. Set in his resolve, the cold winter air greets the boy as he opens one of the front doors of Hogwarts castle to brave the snow storm.

Twenty minutes later, the contemplative Gryffindor finally joins his friends at lunch, looking almost frostbitten and tired. His frosty state draws the attention of the great hall for a moment before everyone's interest wanes. Harry took a seat next to his friends, trying to mask a small smile.

"What is it, Harry?" Hermione's kitten-like voice snags his attention.

"Oh, nothing." Harry assures her. In between bites, however, the young wizard steals glances over at the Slytherin tables all through lunch. From what he can tell, Malfoy is in a right foul mood. The raven-haired boy wonders thoughtfully if it had anything to do with their run-in earlier.

Ron lets go of his spoon with a clack; the pewter soup bowl now empty. A satisfied grin spreads across his face. Harry seals his gaze away from Draco towards Ron, just in time to notice a flurry of owls steaming into the hall. A few carry large parcels, dropping them wearily before flying away. No doubt, Harry realizes, some of them are Christmas gifts.

Spying a familiar tawny owl, he follows it with his gaze. The animal lands gracefully in front of Draco. Curious, the blonde unties the twine that binds a small package to the bird's leg. Free of its burden, the owl flaps its white wings and flies away.

Neglecting the conversations of his table, the Gryffindor covertly watches Malfoy unwrap the parcel. A faint hint of white is visible before Draco quickly tucks the ribbon away into his breast pocket. Wide-eyed, he picks from the wrappings a folded bit of parchment. Almost as quickly as he read it, the Slytherin closes it in his hands and looks around warily. His grey eyes seem to strike Harry as they fix themselves upon him. The blonde's face is glowing a shade of bright red that he didn't think possible.

"What's that about, Harry?" Ron asked, seeing Malfoy's glaring. At that, the green-eyed boy turns to his friend nonchalantly and shrugs. Hermione is standing, books and belongings gathered in her bag already.

She considers her friends before rallying them. "Ready?"

"Yep." Harry acknowledges, glad to shift focus.

The trio picks up their belongings and shoves off, leaving the hall. Charms class awaits them.

That night, Draco Malfoy paces his dormitory alone. A crumpled piece of parchment is squeezed tightly in his fist. He glances suspiciously over at his bed where the white strip of cloth lay bare against his quilt. Teeth grinding, Draco walks over to it and sits beside it, taking it into his lap.

The parchment in his clenched hand is soft from crumpling it. The young Slytherin unfurls it. Hair prickles on Draco's arms as he considers the untidy scrawl of the message. It is a plain and simple note:

'_Happy Christmas, Malfoy._'

Emotions waver around within him. Although it is unsigned, Draco has no doubt that his rival was the one who returned his most treasured possession.

"Potter!" Malfoy grumbles, balling up the note again and hopping off the bed.

Bookmark gently in hand, he grabs his mother's old book and lays the cloth ceremoniously between its pages. Draco pauses. Letting the open book down easy onto his bed, he takes another look at the parchment. Minutes tick by. Face twisting in an expression unknown to even him, the blonde smoothes the wrinkled paper against his chest. Draco, unsure of his actions and shaking slightly, tucks it into the crease of the pages where the bookmark lays.

Too afraid to think, unsure what his acceptance of Harry's gesture would mean, he closes the weathered tome and tucks it away safely in his trunk. Images of that Christmas long ago fill his mind. His mother, the book, and… the rabbit… Draco pales.

Biting his lip, the blonde sniffs emotionally, scolding his self for such sentimentality. Salty tears sting the fortresses of his eyes. He misses his mother most.

'_Home for Christmas._' He tells himself, hopefully.

The thought seems to lighten his mood. Draco traipses over to his bed and jumps into it, gruffly. Eyes closed, he swims through those thoughts and memories.

'_Potters and rabbits…_' He groans to himself.

The blonde rolls over onto his side. His grey eyes shine dimly in the lamplight. A faint spark of gratitude flickers inside. '_Happy Christmas… _Potter.'

**- The End** -

* * *

><p><strong>Koiame:<strong> Sorry for taking so long to finish the Christmas special. I have not used the computer most of this chapter was on in many months. I hope that this was worth the wait. I changed the name of the story to something a little more creative. Hope you don't mind. Thank you for reading!


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